


The Great and Powerful Sorcerer Stone

by verfound



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Curses, Dragon Luka, F/M, Fairy Tale Curses, Fantasy AU, Give Luka A Nap, Inspired by Playing with Fire, LBSC sprint challenge, Sorcerer Stone, Ver Can Be Trusted With Dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29739831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfound/pseuds/verfound
Summary: When the Great and Powerful Sorcerer Stone hears about a dragon terrorizing a nearby town (ok, when he hears about thehandsome reward the mayor of said town will be paying to whoever can slay the fearsome beast), he decides to lend his services to help.  He wasn’t expecting to find a kid trapped in the tower, though.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 11
Kudos: 71
Collections: LBSCSprintFicChallenge





	The Great and Powerful Sorcerer Stone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NerdyPanda3126](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyPanda3126/gifts).



> Hey, y’all! LBSC Sprint Challenge is running an AU week this week (2/24-3/3), and guess who’s doing a Fantasy AU? xD (This was NOT the AU I was going to do (well, it IS, but not THIS particular fic), but then NerdyPanda started spitballing about a Sorcerer Jagged for her Playing with Fire fic, and the plunnies bit HARD.) I had three basic scenes I wanted to get done in this, and took four sprints to do it – so about an hour, plus maybe 600 words in editing? This is teeeechnically set before PwF, which you should definitely read because it’s amazing. Go. Shoo. Before you read this one. C: (I also wrote this before reading ch3, where Jagged actually does come in, so keep that in mind, too. xD)
> 
> Just a reminder: LBSC Sprint Challenge Guidelines: Three 15-minute sprints to write the fic. 24 hours to edit/post. (Or 45m to draw a picture, then 24h to get it to wherever “finished” means for you. Because I also did a pic, and it’s in the end notes. xD)

“Hrrrrngh!”

Jagged flipped himself upwards, grunting as he stretched and shimmied and wiggled his just-too-short fingers at the knot firmly tied around his ankle. His other leg kicked out, which only managed to make him swing more, which only meant he couldn’t actually reach his ankle anyway, and another frustrated cry left him as his core cramped and he flopped back towards the earth. The branch the string was connected to bobbed with the force of it all, and his head came dangerously close to cracking on the stone.

“Son of a –!” he started to shout, just another useless cry to echo through the seemingly abandoned courtyard, when a question interrupted him.

“Are you ok?”

He shrieked at the tiny voice, jerking enough that he swayed precariously. Despite his best efforts (and fears), the rope held fast. When he finally swung to a stop – or close enough that the courtyard wasn’t spinning with all the blood rushing to his head – he saw the source of the voice sitting on the stone path a short distance away from him.

It was…a kid.

A little boy, to be precise. Couldn’t be older than ten, maybe a bit younger. With shaggy black hair that flopped over what Jagged was guessing were blue eyes (they were too light to be brown, even in the dark, but they might be green) and pale skin that spoke of not enough time in the sun – and dark, baggy shadows under said eyes that spoke of not enough sleep in the moon, either. He was dressed simply, but there was something about the clothing that spoke of wealth to Jagged: what looked like fine fabrics, even if the tunic was a good three or four sizes too large for the boy and pooled around his crossed legs. Bare toes poked out beneath, wiggling in the moonlight.

“Sir?” the boy asked, and Jagged shook his head. “Are you? Ok?”

“Er…no,” Jagged finally said. He pointed up to the rope that was holding him suspended, upside-down, from the tree near the tower’s entrance. “I’m a bit stuck.”

The boy nodded, as if they were discussing nothing more pressing than the weather and not, y’know, that Jagged was hanging upside-down from a tree in the courtyard of a tower said to be inhabited by a very powerful, very nasty dragon that was likely to show up any minute and chomp him to death.

So.

No big deal.

Not really.

“I see,” the boy said. “How’d you get stuck?”

“How…?” Jagged mimicked, but the question died in a groan as he fell back to a prone position. He started swaying again, and he groaned as he started to turn away from the boy – who _laughed_ at him. “The tower’s booby-trapped! How d’you _think_ I got stuck, kid?!”

“I think you stepped in the rope and it pulled you up,” the boy said, which was exactly what Jagged had meant by _booby-trapped_. Gods, he hated kids! “Can’t you get down? You seem strong enough.”

“Can’t you shut up?” Jagged grumbled. “You seem smart enough.”

The boy bristled at that, and he actually did shut up for a little bit. Jagged resumed his squirming, attempting to throw himself up to untie the knot that was just tightening around his ankle the more he squirmed.

Oh, but this was _humiliating_. He was a powerful sorcerer! One of the king’s own Royal Wizards (…when he felt like it)! And he was bested by a stupid _snare?_ Nanarchy would _never_ let him hear the end of this…

She had _told_ him not to go near the tower. That dragons were terrible, fearsome creatures when trifled with. That he was going to get himself _killed_. But the Mayor of the afflicted town had promised a _lot_ of gold, and what did Anarka Couffaine know about dragons, anyway?

She would never let him live this down if he proved her right…

“But what are you doing here?” the boy finally asked, once it became clear Jagged wasn’t getting free on his own. He had slumped back and resumed his hanging, sighing as he slowly turned back around to face the kid. “Don’t you know there’s a big, scary dragon around?”

“Well, what d’ya think I’m here for?” Jagged huffed, glaring at him. “Big, terrifying dragon terrorizing the terrified townsfolk.”

“He’s not that big,” the kid mumbled, and Jagged rolled his eyes – or tried to, except with all the blood in his head it just made him dizzy.

“Big, handsome reward for the handsome soul who bests the beast,” he said, continuing on as if the kid hadn’t spoken. He probably knew as much about dragons as crazy old Nanarchy did. “Great, big, powerful sorcerer,” he continued, jabbing a thumb at his chest, “who thought, _gee, I like handsome rewards._ ”

“You’re not gonna get very far tied up like that,” the boy hummed, tilting his head to the side. “The dragon’s just as likely to eat you up before you can do any slaying.”

“Gee, kid, thanks for the…” Jagged huffed, but then the boy started snickering and Jagged actually _looked_ at him. His eyes narrowed, and the boy’s snickering stopped.

No…

Not a boy…

“Oh gods,” Jagged groaned, dropping his head back.

“What?” the boy asked, sitting up a bit straighter and looking away from him. Now that Jagged had _Seen_ it, though, the kid couldn’t hide it. His aura was _sparking_ around him in angry flames, even if those flames sparked and stretched in an arching line back over the wall and forest and towards the town at the edge of the woods.

Ah, _shit._

“… _you’re_ the dragon,” Jagged groaned. The not-actually-a-boy bristled, and Jagged groaned again. “Shit, kid, I can’t slay you! You’re a… _kid!_ ”

“I’m not a kid!” the boy snapped. “I’m _nine_!”

“That’s a _kid_ , kid!” Jagged snapped. He flailed for a moment, kicking his free leg and throwing his fists in a right, proper tantrum. “Damnation! There goes my gold!”

“…you could still kill me,” the boy said. When Jagged stopped swaying and could see him again, he had stood up. Jagged noticed the tunic reached down to just above his ankles, and it was bunched up with a length of rope. “I’m a _cursed_ dragon. I’m human until morning. So you could kill me easily enough.”

The way he said that – like he was only nine and actually kind of hoping Jagged _would_ – didn’t sit right with the sorcerer.

“…cursed?” Jagged asked, blinking at him. He tried not to think about those darker Thoughts. What did the kid mean, _cursed?_ Didn’t he understand why he was human? Why his fire had fled to the town? “Shit, kid. You ain’t _cursed_ , you’re…don’t you know why you’re human?”

The boy-dragon-whatever shifted, looking a little anxiously at his feet. Jagged sighed.

The Mayor was offering a _lot_ of gold, too…

“Tell you what,” Jagged said. He gestured to the rope around his ankle. He couldn’t really feel his foot anymore. “Why don’t you cut me loose, and I’ll tell you all about your _curse?_ Deal?”

“How do I know you won’t just kill me anyway?” the boy asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

“Because I may like money, kid, but I ain’t in the habit of slaying _children_ ,” Jagged huffed. He gestured back to the rope. “Now. Do me a solid?”

After a few minutes, the boy had scurried up the tree. Jagged watched as he pulled a dagger out of the back of his belt and, in one swift motion, cut through the rope holding him up. He crashed back to the stone path unceremoniously, landing hard on his shoulder before flopping onto his chest with a pained groan. After a moment he forced himself up and started briskly rubbing at his ankle, trying to encourage the blood to flow again. When he looked back up, the not-boy-not-dragon was standing before him, the dagger raised level with the sorcerer’s eyes. Jagged blinked before raising his hands, leaning back a bit.

“Easy, kid,” he said, looking away from the dagger and catching his eyes. “We’re friends, right? No need for that.”

“You came here to kill me,” the boy said stubbornly.

“And now I’m going to _help_ you,” Jagged said. “Besides, you ain’t the only one who’s… _cursed_ ,” he continued with a snicker, “and she’s probably gonna wanna kill you more. Or he. Whoever you _cursed_ with you. Now put that away and we can talk.”

He watched him patiently, and after an agonizing moment where he could see the struggle and self-preservation play across the kid’s face he finally lowered the dagger. Jagged grinned and held out his hand.

“Excellent,” he said. “I am the Great and Powerful Sorcerer Stone, but you can call me Jagged. And what can I call you, m’b’y?”

A shadow flickered across the kid’s face, and for a moment Jagged thought he was going to draw his dagger again. He didn’t look threatened, though, just…sad. He put the dagger away and took Jagged’s hand, and the sorcerer grinned as he clumsily shook it.

“Luka,” he said.

“Well, ok, then, Luka,” Jagged said, squeezing his hand before letting go. “Tell me. What do you know about soul bonds?”

– V –

“Oh my _gods_ , kid! You are _not_ going to believe the night I had!” Jagged crowed as he swaggered in through the gate, still a little buzzed from the adrenaline and the ale the townsfolk had ‘forced’ upon him. Luka was waiting for him, curled up in the courtyard and looking like he was sulking. Jagged just continued to grin at him. “What. A. Night!”

The dragon snorted, smoke billowing from his nostrils as he turned his head away from the sorcerer. Jagged was undeterred, though. He walked over to him and propped an elbow on his head, only having to slouch a little. At fifteen, Luka was a lot bigger than the scrawny little dragon whelp he’d first met six years ago, but he was by no means full-grown yet. Even then, he was naturally a smaller dragon than some of the great dread wyrms Jagged had crossed paths with.

“C’mon,” he wheedled, scratching at the bit of shiny scales above his eyes. His tail flicked in agitation, the tuft of blue hair on the end thwapping Jagged’s rear. Jagged could practically hear Luka growling at him to _lay off_. “Ain’t’cha the least bit curious?”

Luka just snorted again, and Jagged sighed as he flopped back against him. The dragon growled, but Jagged knew he would never actually hurt him. They were friends, after all. He’d even go so far as to say the kid probably revered him as a father figure or some sentimental shit like that.

“Not wondering why I’m so late? I was supposed to be here yesterday, and I’m _usually_ pretty punctual,” he pressed. Luka popped an eye open, watching him critically. They both knew that was a lie. Jagged lived on Jagged Time, and that schedule held very little respect for the consideration of others (especially the King who employed him, much to his apprentice’s frustration). “I was _delayed_.”

Luka snorted again, as if to say _obviously_ , and sparks flew from his lips to bounce across the stone. Jagged snickered.

“There was an _incident_ in the town,” Jagged said, lifting his immaculately manicured fingernails to inspect the nonexistent dirt beneath them. He smirked and glanced back at his friend. “Apparently, the baker’s daughter is _cursed_.”

_That_ caught his attention. Luka’s eyes popped open, his head lifting as he tried to look at Jagged. It was a little difficult, with the sorcerer’s elbow still holding it down. A rumble – not quite a growl, more a mumble of curiosity – rolled through him.

“She bursts into flame every night,” Jagged continued, as if he hadn’t noticed Luka’s interest. “According to her dad, has done for years. Ever since that _pesky dragon in the tower_ kidnapped her when she was a baby. Apparently, the more upset she is, the worse the flames get. And she was _plenty_ upset last night.”

The grumble was more a whine.

Jagged glanced back at Luka, his grin faltering at the distress in his friend’s eyes.

He could practically hear the rapid-fire questions: _You met my bonded? What happened? What upset her? Is she safe? Is she all right?_ He had to remind himself that Luka had never actively sought her out. Had never seen her beyond the day they’d first met. He had been young and stupid when he’d initiated the bond (though well-meaning: he had told Jagged of the human child he’d seen fall into the river, and the mistake that had saved her life but also left her permanently bound to him), and he had never wanted to force the matter. Coming to him had to be her own choice. Staying with him – or killing him, if she so desired – had to be _her own choice._

He was a good kid like that.

Jagged patted Luka’s neck, whistling. He settled against Luka’s side and reached for the mandolin he usually kept slung across his back. Luka grumbled again when he started to tune it. Jagged claimed it was cursed and _that_ was why it never sounded right. Luka just thought he didn’t actually know how to play. Jagged plucked out a few notes Luka assumed he meant to be soothing.

“Peace, kid,” Jagged said, pausing his playing to pat Luka’s neck again. “She’s ok. Everything’s ok.”

Luka snorted, and Jagged grinned.

“Your girl had a little crush,” he said. Luka’s eyes widened, and Jagged looked back to his mandolin. “On the tailor’s boy. Sweet kid. Blithering idiot. Absolutely clueless. Apparently one of the other girls in town learned about her crush and used it to publicly humiliate her. There was a bit of a fire, and –”

Luka jerked up again, and Jagged once more held up his hand.

“Easy,” he said, and Luka snorted. Jagged lifted a brow at the spark that stuttered across the stone, barely missing the trailing black-and-violet sleeve of his robes. “She’s _fine_ , Luka. It was just a little crush. Besides, I told her not to worry: I can see the future, remember?”

Jagged tossed him a wink, but Luka just snorted again. It…was honestly still in debate whether what he occasionally Saw was actually _the future_ or just _other worlds_ , but Luka firmly believed he made half the things he told him up, anyway. Which wasn’t entirely wrong: Jagged did love a good elaboration…

“So I told her the tailor’s kid ain’t the one meant for her, anyway. Her true love’s busy moping after her in the tower beyond the forest,” Jagged said with a snicker. He tossed Luka another wink, ignoring the way his long, scaly body tensed. “Trapped by a great, terrible dragon, eagerly awaiting the day she can come save –”

Luka _roared_ , twisting to snap at him so violently that Jagged was thrown with a clang of his mandolin towards the stone.

“I said _easy!_ ” Jagged shouted as Luka pounced on him. The dragon growled, glaring at him as his lips quivered over his gleaming teeth. Jagged pushed against his chest with little success, but he refused to be intimidated by what was essentially a bratty teenager. Gods, he hated kids… “Luka! Calm down!”

But Luka was still snarling. Jagged tried to jab his knee into his chest, but if Luka actually felt it he didn’t give any indication. Said chest was glowing with his internal fire, but that didn’t scare Jagged, who continued to return his glare. After a moment, though, his expression softened. It wasn’t anger sparking in Luka’s eyes: it was _fear._

Luka was _terrified_.

But of _what?_

“…kid,” Jagged sighed, patting his chest in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. “It’s ok. _She’s_ ok. And I didn’t actually tell her anything.”

That gave Luka pause, and Jagged grinned at him.

“I _may_ have mentioned a rumor I’d heard about a handsome so-and-so trapped up here, but I didn’t breathe a word of your… _curse_ ,” Jagged said. Luka stopped growling, and after a moment he stepped away from him. Jagged sat up with another exaggerated sigh, and with Luka settled he reached for his mandolin again. He groaned when he saw the neck had snapped.

“Awww, c’mon, kid!” he whined, holding the instrument up for him to inspect. “I was just getting good!”

Luka just snorted and curled back up on the courtyard. He tucked his head against his stomach, effectively turning his back on the sorcerer. He ignored him the rest of the day.

(…though he _did_ punch him once night had fallen and he was human again. Jagged supposed he deserved that.)

– V –

Jagged whistled as he approached the tower, his new familiar – a tiny little baby dragon he had rescued from a trapper that had had meant to use him for a sacrifice or some such nonsense – perched proudly on his shoulder. He couldn’t _wait_ to introduce Luka to Fang. He was pretty sure they’d get on swimmingly. _Dragon Code_ or whatever.

…strange, though. He couldn’t see Luka as the tower drew closer. The last few times Jagged had passed through this part of the kingdom, Luka had been sprawled across the tower roof, sunning himself. He always made sure to keep himself on full display during the day, hoping to discourage any unwanted visitors from coming too close. He wasn’t in the courtyard, either, so Jagged pressed on to the tower interior. That appeared abandoned, too.

But _strangely_ abandoned.

Luka’s bachelor pad didn’t seem like much of a _bachelor pad_ anymore.

It was _cleaner_ , for one. Little vases of wilting or dead flowers were scattered around the room. The dented armor was missing. The pillows by the wall – and the wall itself – were scorched, the strangest pattern evident in the center of the burn. It looked like…people? Two bodies.

…two.

Jagged’s eyes widened as he looked around the room. Holy shit. Ho. Ly. Shit. Had…had the baker girl…had she actually made it? Had they done it?

…was Luka finally free?

Jagged was laughing as he continued to search the room. On the desk, by a vase with flowers only a few days dead, sat a folded piece of parchment with his name scrawled on it in Luka’s messy hand. He scratched Fang’s head before picking the letter up, and by the time he reached the end he was laughing heartily.

The kid had actually done it.

He was _free_.

And so too, it seemed, was the girl.

_My dearest friend,_

_My bonded – Marinette, her name is Marinette – has finally found her way to the tower. She has decided to stay. We are attempting to figure out our bond. To grow it. To make it work._

_I am unsure if or when you will find this, or if we might find you first. We are leaving the tower. We are going to search for my family. My mother and sister._

_I hope to see you out there, friend. I can’t wait for you to meet Marinette._

_I think you’ll really like her._

_…I think I do._

_Luka_

Jagged laughed, scratching Fang’s tiny head again. He folded the parchment and tucked it into one of the enchanted pockets of his robes, grinning as he turned towards the window and the sprawling sky beyond. If he squinted, he could imagine he could see Luka in the distance, a thin ribbon against the sky with his girl clinging tight to his back.

“Way to go, kid,” he chuckled, patting the pocket that contained his letter. “You actually did it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Nerd: "So what do you guys think about _Sorcerer Jagged Stone?_ "  
> Ver: "...seventy percent Howl Pendragon (book never movie), fifteen percent King Richard (Galavant), five percent Disney's Merlin (Sword in the Stone)."
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4iCzOllSjLU


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